On The Run

Twenty Four

Steve's POV
He actually believed I would kill her. Kidnap her, yes. Torture her, just to get back at him, yes. Kill her? Are you serious Ty?

I walk down to the basement once I know Ty's long gone. Iz is on the ground sprawled out, and she looks dead. So I guess it makes sense that he would have actually believed it.

I pick up the girl up, literally taking no effort. She probably weighs like 90-100 pounds. It's awkward to try to get her up the stairs though, the narrow walls not allowing me to carry her bridal style, so I end up just flipping her over my shoulder.

She's going to feel that later.

I take her upstairs, still unconscious and I lay her on the gross couch. I'm not really that mad at her for kicking me in the balls. I mean, I tortured the girl, but I still don't like her. She has way too much spirit... Not like when I first kidnapped her. Something changed.

But I can't kill her. The shit isn't even lethal, it just puts them in a comatose state. I don't really know why she started spazzing out on Ty.

I hope she wasn't allergic to it, I don't need that on my conscience.

It doesn't matter though, she made quite the show. It was much more believable if you ask me.

I look at her arms. All ripped up, she's still bleeding, and I need to stop it. I take the first aid my from the kitchen and sit down next to her limp body.

It makes it easier on me that she's barely wearing any clothes. I don't have to search for all her wounds. I clean up the gashes on her arms with the anesthetic wiped in the kit, and bandage her arms. Then I go to her legs, doing the same thing, putting cream on her wounds to clot the opening and stop the bleeding.

Her feet are a different story. She really fucked up, trying to escape from the box. I don't understand how she even got out. I watched the camera that was recording her the whole time, and she had another one of those shaking spells.

Even started singing to herself and shit. I fried the kid.

I start by sanitizing some tweezers, I pull out each shard of glass, and toss them in the garbage.

The blood doesn't bother me, I mean I tortured her, I can deal with it.

When she's done she looks like a mummy, and I don't want to be here when she wakes up. So I get a glass of water, and some pain killers on the table next to the rotting couch. I find her shoes from the basement, put a sandwich next to the medicine since she hasn't eaten in a long time, and I grab the injection.

I put the thing in her arm, and move out, quickly. I don't care where she goes, hell I'm doing her a favor by letting her go home. I'm just glad I got Ty back.

Am I overwhelming? An over reactor? A dramatic person? Maybe, but what's done is done.

I walk out the door, hearing her mumble, I just ignore her.

I get in my car, the old thing chugging as I turn it on. I don't know where I'm going to go. Ty really fucked up my life.

As soon as I got arrested the day Ty screwed me over, I could only call one person... My dad. The same dad that takes the belt to me everyday for something I didn't even do, the same dad that comes home drunk each night. He was pretending to be working, mom and I know he's out with one of his whores. The same dad that punches my mom unconscious every time she tells him to put down the bottle.

Needless to say, my dad was non too pleased to get a call from the station telling him his kid had gotten himself arrested.

After countless blows to the face and other body parts, he kicked me out with nothing but the clothes on my back.
Now, I can't even protect my mom from his drunken abuses anymore.

Ty deserved everything I put him through.

Iz's POV

I slowly open my eyes, looking around the room. I'm in so much pain but I know I'm lucky to be alive...

I notice someone walking out the door, Ty? No, this guys hair is too light. The kidnapper?

My head is throbbing, but I can't help to notice the pain in my limbs are not as nearly as bad as before.

I sit up, and look down at my arms and legs. They're all wrapped up in gauze and there is food, medicine, and water on the table...

Where is Ty? I know I ran into him, before I blacked out... From what?

I remember something in my arm, a bang or a shot.

He shot Ty. He shot me.

Is he alive? Why did the kidnapper help me? It must have been him... He's the only guy I have seen here.

I'm alive, but I remember he only got me in the arm... Did he kill Ty? If I go outside, will I see his body?

I try to stand up to look for Ty but as soon as I put pressure on my feet, I collapse in pain. Can I trust this guy? Why would he bandage me up if he's just going to kill me minutes later.

I decide to take the risk and I down the medicine with the water. It tastes like tap water, but it doesn't matter. I'm too thirsty to care, and as soon as I'm finished with the water, my hunger calls for my attention.

I hesitantly reach for the sandwhich. It's just peanut butter and jelly. My favorite sandwich, can't mess it up so I dig in.

It's gone quick, but it defiantly hits the spot. I lay back down so I can let the pain medicine kick in.

I'm so done with this crap. Constantly wondering if I'm going to be ok, or if the people I love are going to be ok. So you know what? Now I'm just going to worry about me. I need to get out of here, I need to find some way to get back to... Where? I don't know.

I don't even know if Ty is alive. But all I know is that I can't do anything sitting on this damn couch. As soon as the ache in my feet start to wear down, I'm getting up, and making myself some sort of support so I can walk.

Laying down, I try not to think of the horrors that may await me. Seeing Ty dead would be the end of me, but I push the thought out of my head. Me, I'm only worrying about me.

About a half hour later, the throbbing in my feet have lessened. I still feel it, obviously, but it's much more manageable.

I get up, limping around the house... I need crutches... But there are no such objects around the house, lucky me.

I go to the kitchen, and the only things I can see are stools. They are the high ones, and I'm short, so I bang them against the wall trying to be careful not to break the long supporting legs in half.

When I'm done, I take some wash clothes from the stove and stuff them on each splintering end of the legs as to not impale my already torn apart limbs. I test them out, they are short, and I find myself hunching my back for the support, but I can walk while putting minimal pressure on my feet. And right now, that's all I can ask for.

I search the cabinets for any more pain pills, and as soon as I see the medicine cabinet, I shove all of its contents on to the counter below. I shuffle through the bottle, and eventually find what I'm looking for. I open the bottle and shove the pills in my pocket.

When my feet start to throb again, I can just take one or two to hold me over.

Now it's time to see what the hell is going on. I wobble my way out the door, and somehow, make my way down a few small stairs that lead to the door of my hell.

I can't help but to remember the loud shots that may have killed the only thing that really matters to me right now...

Did I lose Ty?

No, I refuse to think of it right now. I need to get out, before I get myself in another situation. But as I pass the spot Ty and I got shot, I can't help myself from cringing at seeing a puddle of dried blood on the dying grass. Its not that big though, so it gives me hope.

How long have I been out, and where is this body? Maybe he got up, but I would see a trail of blood if that were the case. My thoughts think of the worst outcome...  My Ty is most likely dead. And I will kill the person responsible.